


Behind the Trigger

by Keirra



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Basically how Noara ended up in Trigger and what she is up do in the background of Fynta's chaos, Childcare, Companion story to larger work, F/M, Fighting, Fluff, Gen, Inappropriate Use of the Force, fanfic of a fanfic, self indulgent, sort of coming of age?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:47:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25653109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keirra/pseuds/Keirra
Summary: Series of drabbles and one shots explaining how Noara Starspark, a Jedi Knight stranded on Nar Shaddaa after the Zakuulian invasion, met and joined Fynta Wolfe and her fight to save the galaxy.
Relationships: Aric Jorgan/Female Republic Trooper, Female Jedi Knight | Hero of Tython/Torian Cadera
Comments: 5
Kudos: 4





	1. Between a Tight Spot and a Long Drop

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cinlat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinlat/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Heart on a Trigger](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12143250) by [Cinlat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinlat/pseuds/Cinlat). 



**3635 BBY**   
**Nar Shaddaa  
** **Red-Light Sector**

Noara had a really bad feeling about her plan. She had never had much of a gift for foresight and truthfully she was grateful for that. She had seen the toll visions could take on those “blessed” with them and wanted nothing to do with it. Besides, with how bleak everything had become, seeing it coming wouldn’t have helped anyone, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that things were about to get  _ so _ much worse. 

The Order had practically fallen apart, all the Jedi been split up, broken into smaller teams to try and preserve some of their beliefs and aid the remaining pockets of resistance in the galaxy. Not that it seemed to help, every day Noara heard news reports of new planets bending to Zakuulian rule, horror stories of the Star Fortresses they were parking over conquered worlds - essentially quarantining them and trapping the population. 

Now they were moving in on Nar Shaddaa and, while Noara didn’t mind the planet for short visits, she sure as hell did not want to be trapped on it. It had been a few weeks since the invasion began and the resistance was starting to waver. The remaining forces didn’t want to give up, but unfortunately they just didn’t have the strength to stand up to the Zakuulian forces moving in. So far no one did. More Skytroopers and Knights arrived everyday. It wouldn’t be long before The Hutt Cartel decided it was more profitable to give in and then the rest of the planet would follow suit. Like dominoes. 

Noara had been on Nar Shaddaa for more than three months already, working under the Zakuulian radar with three Jedi Masters to do whatever they could. Most of their work consisted of quick strikes, getting in and doing damage whenever and wherever they could before the Zakuulian’s knew what hit them. There was no way four Jedi could stop an invasion, but they could slow it down and be a major thorn in the Knight’s side. It was something all four Jedi took great pride in excelling at. 

It was all going remarkably well all things considered.

Then someone sold them out. They must have. Their hideout was safe until a few days ago Noara was awoken by the door being blown in and Cade screaming as he was caught in the blast. He never made it out of the safehouse. 

Even with his death, Noara couldn’t find it in herself to be angry at whoever had sold them out. The reward for information leading to the execution of any Force user was quite substantial and the neighborhood they had chosen to hide in was very poor. It was the kind of money that would change lives. Emperor Arcann had made it illegal for Jedi to exist, this was just the first time she had come face to face with that reality.

In the chaos of their safehouse being attacked, Noara had been separated from Dovoth and Mahtaga; now she was alone and had no way to find them again. There hadn’t been time to grab her go bag before leaving the safehouse. All she had was the clothing on her back, a small pouch of credits and her lightsabers - which she only had because the last few years had made her paranoid enough that she couldn’t sleep unarmed.

Paranoia had saved her life that night.

Not that it mattered much now, she hadn’t slept, hadn’t been able to rest for more than a few moments, since the attack. She was pushing the limits of her endurance but everytime she stopped they found her, even when she knew she hadn’t been followed. The only thing she did know was that she couldn’t keep this up much longer, she needed somewhere safe to crash and right now the only place that seemed even remotely safe was space. Noara needed to get off Nar Shaddaa. 

The desperate need to escape led to the plan she was almost certain was a terrible idea. Steal a ride, get to the spaceport, sneak her way onto a ship. There were countless ways it could blow up in her face, but she had to try. After almost a day of searching, Noara found an abandoned landing pad with a few choice speeders to choose from. She sighed in relief at the sight, it was the first thing that had gone to plan in days. 

Approaching the closest speeder, a quick single rider model, Noara started inspecting the ignition panel to see if she could hotwire it. That was only one of the less conventional skills she had picked up in her years out in the field. She was just pulling out her vibroknife to try and pry the panel off the ignition column when several beings dropped down onto the platform behind her. She closed her eyes and took a steadying breath, this was  _ exactly _ what she had been afraid of.

Opening her eyes and turning around, Noara found a Knight-Captain flanked by several Skytroopers blocking the only entrance to the landing pad. Instinctively her lightsabers were in hand, but before she could activate them the Knight had her seized by the throat and dangling in the air. With her body sluggish with fatigue, she couldn’t react fast enough to defend herself. Despite knowing nothing physical was touching her, she dropped her weapons to scratch at her throat for air. Suddenly Noara was 9 again, reliving the memory of being terrified as a Sith toyed with her life, and all she could do was gasp and kick her feet uselessly. 

The Knight yanked her over to him, almost smashing her against his armor, and snarled in her face. “Quiet heretic! Tell me where the resistance is and you might earn another breath.”

Noara pushed through her panic to glare at him. If she could draw the breath to speak she’d tell him where to shove that threat but the lack of oxygen was starting to make her light headed. As if he knew she was on the verge of passing out, the pressure on her throat loosened slightly. It wasn’t comfortable, but she could wheeze in a tiny bit of air.

The relief was short lived before she felt the Knight invading her mind. Noara tried to strengthen her shields, the ones she always had in place to protect herself, but the mystical side of the Force had never been her strength and it was obviously his. Her shields tore like flimsy at his attack, searing pain like she had never felt before consuming her entire consciousness. She couldn’t focus enough to know what knowledge, what memories, he was shifting through and stealing from her because the agony blinded her from everything else. 

Between the burning of her lungs and the searing pain in her mind, Noara wasn’t immediately aware of the Knight throwing her aside violently. Her body hit the ground hard, rolling with the momentum. She had just regained enough sense to realize she was in danger of falling as she tumbled off the edge. The air rushing past her was too thin, rushing by too fast, and she couldn’t catch her breath, couldn’t manage to think. Except for one crystal clear thought. 

_ I’m going to die.  _

Noara knew there was no way out of this a split second before she hit something that shattered beneath her, adding new, sharp stinging pains throughout her body to the cacophony she already felt. What little breath was in her lungs was knocked out of her lungs as she landed on something solid and Noara tried desperately to breathe. She tried to stay awake so she assess how bad her injuries were, where she was, but she couldn’t focus. The only clear thought in her mind was the same one from before,  _ I’m going to die here. _

It was her worst fear come to life; she was dying all alone and no one would ever know or even care. 


	2. Interlude

_ There is no death, there is the Force. _

That is what Noara had always been taught, but if this was the “Force” she’d eat her hat. Wait… she didn’t have a hat, did she? Noara frowned at her fuzzy surroundings. She couldn’t make out where she was, even her hand was hard to see. It was like she was coming apart at the seams and could be swept away by a stray breeze. 

Was she dead? Noara was sure she had died, but why would she still be alone if she was? The one comfort Jedi had was that the Force would welcome them back when they were finally free from their calling. 

Instead she had been abandoned to a blurry landscape and her continued solitude. Abandoned, like always. 

Noara had a stray thought wondering whose afterlife was so depressing when the pain started. It was a gradual buildup of pain, starting in her thigh and head as dull aches, spreading to her throat as it grew. Noara fell to her knees as her body was consumed by agony. Whoever’s afterlife she’d landed in, this was surely their version of hell. Just as she thought the pain would break her body apart she managed to pry open her eyes. 

Neon lights blinded her, burning, and she almost closed them again, before she heard a girlish shriek. Looking around as best she could, trying not to pain when she realized she couldn’t move her head, she noticed a young girl staring at her with wide, scared eyes. 

Noara wanted to ask the girl why she was so scared, she’d always had a soft spot for younglings, but she couldn’t make her voice work. 

Another figure entered her field of vision, an older teenage boy, pulling on her arm. “C’mon we need to hurry.”

The girl shook her head and pointed toward Noara. “But she’s still alive.”

“Impossible, you saw how far she fell,” he scoffed before noticing her open eyes. “Firefek,” he cursed, pushing the girl behind him and moving closer. 

Noara’s lingering strength began to wane and her eyes drooped as he approached. The last thing she was aware of before the darkness claimed her again was his fingers hesitantly searching for a pulse on her abused throat.


	3. Life in Quasi Incarceration

**3632 BBY**

**Nar Shaddaa**

**Red-Light Sector**

Noara sat perched on the edge of her bed having a staring contest with the timepiece across the room. No matter how much she willed it, she couldn't actually make time stop. Oh, she could break the clock, still the internal workings until they no longer functioned. But, as tempting as that was, she knew it wouldn't change her fate. 

Fully aware she was being dramatic, Noara pulled her hair over her shoulder to run her fingers through long locks. Before being stranded on the Hutt world she had always kept her hair short, easy to pull up and keep out of the way in a fight, but had let it grow out since. She was still getting into fights but scuffles with drunken patrons was far less treacherous than facing down a Sith Lord. 

It was an added bonus that long, thick hair hanging down her back instead of just past her shoulders helped disguise her identity. She had also taken to wearing thicker makeup in a traditional Nabooian style. Before it was a rare day that she applied more than just a bit of gloss on her lips. Now dark purple painted her eyes, sweeping up toward her hairline. Her lips were painted to match, the top a solid color and a stripe down the middle. If she knew how to properly cover up the scar on her cheek she would have, but between her hair, makeup, and civilian clothing she was fairly confident that no one save maybe the Knight that had rifled through her mind would recognize her. 

That thought brought her mind back around to why she had stopped midway through tying her boots to have a staring contest with her clock. It was almost time for her to leave for work. That was another very strange change in her life. She was raised to be a _Jedi_ not to hold a regular job complete with set hours and a schedule. Days off were rare but she still had far more free time now than she had ever had in her life. Even less familiar to her was getting paid for services rendered.

The financial side of life, something most people dealt with constantly, had come as a shock to her and served to make her feel incredibly naive. It had never occurred to her how grossly unprepared she was for life outside of the Order, had never occurred to her that she would ever have a life outside the order.

Heaving a sigh, Noara finished lacing up her boots, pushed to her feet, and pulled a black leather vest on over her red tank top. There was no use in dragging her feet any longer, it was time to leave for the Drunken Gundark for her shift.

It was a slow night in the bar. Not so much that it wasn’t filled with patrons, half the population of Nar Shaddaa spent their entire day in a bar and the other half found one as soon as possible after work. What passed as a ‘slow’ night was that Noara had been perched on the counter for almost three hours of her shift without having to put her book down to break up a fight. 

That was just fine as far as she was concerned, Noara had started a new book the night before and found herself completely immersed in the plot. The characters were interesting and the connection between the leads was electric. The kind of playful, snarky and affectionate attraction that was the author’s speciality always drew her in tight. The fact that it provided an escape from her current situation only made it harder to set it down.

Peeking over the top of her datapad, Noara watched the newest group of customers make their way into the bar. They looked like a rowdy bunch, the kind that might ruin the slow night she was enjoying. Making a note to keep tabs on them, she turned her attention back to her novel. Granted there was little she couldn’t sense with the Force around her anyway, she preferred to have her eyes on the rough crowd over the top of her datapad. At first Paquor, the old man who took a chance and hired her as a bouncer, had thought she wasn’t taking the job seriously when she pulled out her book.

After the third time she proved she could read her novels and be on her feet and stopping a fight in the blink of an eye he stopped complaining. If anything this was better, no one expected the petite woman sitting on the bar with her nose in a book to be able to throw men more than twice her size out of the bar. She liked being underestimated, it made their surprise when she handed them their asses that much more satisfying to her. 

Since waking up three years ago in a run down medcenter Noara had learned to take what she can get. Truthfully she could name dozens of places she would rather be than Nar Shaddaa, working in a bar deep in the Red Light Sector - though anywhere with _actual_ trees would thrill her - but as long as Zakuul controlled traffic on and off the planet she was stuck. She’d lost her lightsabers when the Knight-Captain had assaulted her and hadn’t been able to replace them so even if she decided to attempt fighting her way off planet she was at a distinct disadvantage.

Losing her lightsabers hurt Noara more than she could have ever predicted. There were few things that had ever actually felt like _hers_ and she’d had those sabers since she had been a knight in her late teen years. She’d harvested the crystals herself in a cave on Ilum, matching stones the color of the deepest part of the ocean on Naboo. She almost cried the first time she turned them on and the darkness was bathed in that beautiful color. The knowledge that she would never see it again was a hurt she was still nursing. 

But three years was a long time to wallow in self pity and despite how hopeless things felt when she started her recovery and piecing together a life where she was anything but a Jedi she wasn’t miserable. She wasn’t happy either. The loneliness wasn’t much different than her life before being stranded here. 

A shout over the music pulled her attention from her thoughts and she glanced toward it. Two gangbangers were getting into it with each other. A table was shoved to the side and insults were flying. Noara set aside her datapad and hopped off the counter, skipping across the bar toward them. She reached them just as the Zabrak swung his fist at the Twilek. 

Noara caught his wrist just before it struck. “Now, now boys, start throwing punches and someone could get hurt.”

“Stay out of this little girl,” the Zabrak snarled, yanking his hand back. 

Noara let go of his hand but narrowed her eyes at him. “Call me little girl again and you’ll be collecting your teeth from the street. Now are you gunna sit down and have a drink or do I need I need to show you the exit?”

“Get out of the way bitch,” the Twi’lek growled from behind her before trying to shove her out of the way. Noara dropped into a crouch and swept his feet out from under him with one leg. He hit the ground hard as she popped back up to her feet. 

Noara planted one of her boots on his chest, pressing all her weight into his ribcage, and stepped over him to avoid a punch from the Zabrak. She caught his forearm before he could retract it and pulled, using the Force the help yank the large man off balance. As he fell she hopped backward, letting him fall on the smaller Twi’lek. 

Both groaned at the impact and then again when Noara dropped down to sit on top of them with a satisfied smile. Her weight would never be enough to pin the two men in place but with a subtle application of the Force they weren’t going anywhere until she decided to let them.

As usual when a fight broke out in the bar, most patrons stopped what they were doing to watch and several cheers and “ooohs!” broke out though the crowd. 

“Noara,” Paquor called over from the bar and she turned to look over her shoulder at her boss. “Enough showboating, get them out of my bar.”

“Sure thing boss,” Noara said, throwing him a mock salute and a grin before slapping the Zabrak on the back. “Up you go lug head.” She stood and released the Force holding them down. Immediately the Zabrak lunged at her and Noara punched him square in the nose, letting his own momentum damage his face. When he staggered back she grabbed a fistfull of his shirt and gave him a good shake. “Knock it off.”

If looks could kill, Noara would be dead where she stood with the venom behind the glare he sent her way. She ignored the look and grabbed the Twi’lek by the back of his jacket as he staggered to his feet. Both men stumbled as she pulled them toward the door, the taller Zabrak having to slump over as she held tight to his shirt and the Twi’lek floundering as she drug him backward through the bar.

Once at the door Noara shoved them both outside, kicking the Zabrak in the ass for good measure. “Thanks for visiting The Drunken Gundark!” She called after them cheerfully, “come back when you learn to behave!”

By the time she returned to the bar everyone had gone back to their drinks. Noara hopped back up on the bar counter and retrieved her datapad. Once she was settled Paquor ambled over to her with a fresh drink in hand that she accepted with a smile. This was a tradition of his, every time she stopped trouble without any collateral property damage she earned a free drink.

Relaxing back against the wall, Noara sipped her drink and surveyed the crowd. Even after the stunt she just pulled she had already been all but forgotten. It was a perfect example of how her life worked. What it meant to be Jedi. People noticed and paid attention when she was in action, when she was useful to them and then she faded into the background and ceased to exist. It stung like a double edged vibroblade but for the first time in her life Noara was almost grateful no one took notice of her.

It was the only thing making it possible for her to hide in plain sight. 


	4. Home is Where You Make It

**3632 BBY**

**Nar Shaddaa**

**Red-Light Sector**

Noara tried her best not to notice her surroundings as she made her way from the bar to the small flat she had rented. Calling it home would be far too generous, though she wasn’t sure she knew what the word meant. It might as well be in Tusken for all she understood it. It was harder to resist glancing up and spotting the Star Fortress high in the atmosphere, an ever present reminder that for she was essentially a prisoner here. The only way off world was through the spaceport and last time she tried to get there she nearly died. She wasn’t quite desperate enough to try again. 

Her flat was on the other side of the Red Light sector from the bar. Noara knew she could have tried to find a nicer place, even a better job, but there wasn’t much she was qualified for. No, staying in the seedier, lower levels was the best way to keep her head down and stay out of sight. Part of her lived in perpetual terror that she would run into that same Knight-Captain again and he would finish the job he started two years ago. She had almost cut herself off from the Force since coming out of the coma she had been in while she recovered. 

No more daily meditations, no unnecessary usage. She used it at the bar, and on the frequent occasions when someone saw a single, small female walking alone at night and decided to take advantage, but that was it. In a way, the Knight-Captain had succeeded - her life as a Jedi was over. 

Any semblance of her life was over. Now it was just about survival and the ever diminishing hope for more. 

Arriving at her flat, Noara unlocked the heavy duty blast doors she had installed and deactivated the forcefield she had personally set up. She knew how it looked; like she was crazy and paranoid, but when the powers in charge are willing to pay good money for your head on a platter paranoid was a good way to be. Once inside she secured both security measures behind her again. 

This small space had become her world. To most people it probably wasn’t enough but the studio had room for a bed, kitchenette, and a small fresher. Next to a very modest wardrobe she had set up a small table with several plants and a growth light after the first few months, the lack of anything natural was too much for Noara to handle. The fake neon trees scattered around the planet were poor substitutes. The cleaner air they provided for her small living space was an added bonus to the sense of life they brought into the small space.

Kicking off her boots, Noara cut across the room to the fresher. She stripped off the rest of her clothes and reached into the shower stall to turn the water on. While it heated up she cleaned the makeup off her face, wincing as she touched the still healing bruise around her eye from several nights before. When her face was clean she stepped into the hot water and almost moaned at the feel of it on her skin. 

One of the best parts of her day was getting to wash the city off. It was probably her imagination but she always felt like it clung to her skin until she scrubbed it away. While many aspects of her Jedi lifestyle had stuck with her, skimping on her bath products was no longer one of them. Lavish shampoos and body washes scented with exotic fruits and flowers filled the shelves inside the stall. After debating for a moment she chose a bottle scented with vormur blossoms, flowers from Mandalore according to the back of the bottle. 

It was one of Noara’s favorites and she would love the chance to see one of the flowers in person someday, though, given their origin that was unlikely to happen. Instead she would be content to simply enjoy the smell. 

Noara took her time working the soaps into a lather, washing herself from head to toe, massaging her scalp and working out every last one of her sore muscles. She didn’t turn off the fresher until her hot water started to cool. Slowly she dried herself and dressed in a nightgown, a deep emerald green Dramassian shimmersilk that was cool and luxurious against her skin. Starting to climb into bed she stopped, looking over at where she had dropped her bag on the way in and sighed. Pushing away from the bed she dug through the bag to retrieve her datapad. 

Before developing this fear of discovery she would have just pulled it to her with a wave of her hand, a simple task she mastered as a child. Now even that much Force usage that wasn’t necessary scared her. Brushing aside that depressing thought, she settled herself into bed with the datapad and opened her current book.

The only truly positive thing she had found so far about living on this rock was the seemingly endless selection of romance holonovels for her to read. Her favorite author wasn’t easily available in the Hutt controlled world but there were more than enough other authors that she never had to worry about pacing herself or running out of stories to read before getting her hands on a new one. At the bar tonight she had almost gotten to what she expected was the big scene. Every romance story had one. When the two love interests finally stopped fighting their feelings and said those most precious of words - words Noara had never heard but had always secretly dreamed of. 

_ I love you. _

They were almost always followed by heated, sensual lovemaking - in her experience the only exception was when they were in immediate danger. 

A few lines into the scene and it happened, making Noara smile as Dev delivered a beautiful heartfelt confession. When Jaiden’s heart started to race Noara could feel her own do the same. She’d always had a very active imagination and it was easy to pretend. To lose herself in the moment. To pretend that Dev’s hand was skimming along the line of  _ her  _ waist, touching  _ her  _ tenderly the way he touched Jaiden. Noara ached for someone to treat her as though she was something so precious, so loved - unlike the disposable child or forgotten Jedi she was. It was so tempting to follow the path of his hand along her own body, chasing a more tangible pleasure than her imagination could provide. 

It wouldn’t be the first time, surely not the last, but she hesitated. That temporary moment of bliss just didn’t feel worth the crash, not tonight. She’d been lonely lately, more so than usual, and she knew it would just feel worse when the pleasure faded. Another reminder she was alone. Sighing, she set her book aside. 

Noara’s continued chastity wasn’t entirely due to her dedication to the Jedi Code - though the fear of being lost to the dark was real enough - or her paranoia about being found out as a Jedi. She had no misconceptions about her appearance. She was short, shorter than a grown woman should be, something people took great joy in pointing out. Even that Zabrak at the bar earlier had called her  _ little girl _ . She was almost thirty and still small enough she looked like a child to most men. 

It wouldn’t be so bad if she had the curves that men looked for in a woman, a curvy waist and ample breasts. Instead she was far too muscular, muscle she had to work almost obsessively to gain and to keep. She had no clue if it was a result of spending her developing years in the field and living on rations or a natural result of her family’s genetics - whatever those were was a mystery she’d never solve. What she did know was that she had nothing at all in common with the beautiful women she saw catching the male attention at The Drunken Gundark. 

Brushing angrily at the sudden tears in her eyes, Noara reached above her and turned off the light. Sulking over her misery wasn’t doing her any good except making her feel even worse. Turning over, she buried her face into the pillow and tried to forget where she was. Tried to forget everything, even if just for a few hours, until she had to go through it all again tomorrow. 

And every day after that.


	5. A Change of Pace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cinlat helped write this chapter, getting into Fynta's head while she was still getting used to her new team (and before the inevitable reunion with Havoc Squad) for this first meeting with Noara.

**3632 BBY**   
**Nar Shaddaa**   
**Drunken Gundark Cantina**

For the first time since being pulled out of carbonite, Fynta felt like she was home. Despite her extensive traveling and it not being a Republic world, Nar Shaddaa was her favorite place in the galaxy. Between the bright neon lights and rowdy crowds there was always trouble and fun to be found, her favorite activities. The Hutt world also had some of the best bars around. 

The Drunken Gundark wasn’t counted among those, but was deep enough in the red light sector Fynta was confident no one would recognize her. At least, that would be her story when Theron eventually discovered that her entire squad, plus Koth, were playing hookie tonight. This seedy dive wasn’t the Little Oyu'baat Tapcaf, but the small establishment was clean by Nar Shaddaa standards, well lit enough that she could see the whole room and the music playing out of the ancient looking jukebox wasn’t terrible. Not to mention, it proved to Pierce that Fynta really did know where every cantina on the Hutt moon was. The infuriating Imperial doubted her ability to sniff out a good time. She’d told him to buckle up, and taxied them straight to the Red Light District. If they couldn’t find his kind of shady here, then the man needed to lower his standards.

“I left my bed for this?” Koth asked with a curled lip as they surveyed the room.

“No,” Fynta corrected, clapping the man on his shoulder. “Hirani kicked you out, and you had nothing better to do.” Koth attempted an indignant sputter, but Fynta ignored him. When she turned to address her squad, only Pierce and Felix remained. 

Searching the dimly lit establishment, Fynta spied Akaavi in the corner, glaring from where she had her chin rested on tattooed knuckles. A service droid approached, then scurried away with renewed vigor. Fynta sighed. The purpose of this, aside from pissing Theron off, was to personalize her squad a little. Republic, Empire, and independent factions were represented within her small group, but Akaavi refused to do more than grunt at any of them. The woman clearly didn’t want to be a part of team building, so Fynta left her alone. She’d done her part. So long as the Zabrak continued to produce results, Fynta wouldn’t try to befriend her.

“Okay, boys. Let’s see what this place has to offer.” Fynta threw her arms around Koth and Felix’s shoulders before nodding to the bar. The men to either side laughed easily, but Pierce was harder to impress. 

Releasing her captives, Fynta studied the tri-fold menu. “Pick your poison, I’ll buy the first round.” Not with her own credits, they’d been frozen, literally. Theron or Zolah would discover her pilfered funds soon enough, and Fynta couldn’t wait for the fireworks.

After everyone had settled on a brew of their choice, Fynta spun around to lean her elbows against the bar. She grinned when Pierce swaggered back to them from the raven haired damsel down the way. The woman looked more interested in her reading than her surroundings. Not a wise move in a place like this, in Fynta’s opinion. 

“No luck?” Fynta smirked as Pierce leaned next to her.

The large man shrugged. “Plenty of fish in the sea.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Felix laughed while Koth nodded miserably. Fynta realized that both of them were taken, and for all she knew, Akaavi might be as well. That left she and Pierce as the only single people in their party. Come to think of it, Fynta hadn’t scratched that itch since coming off ice. She scanned the dance floor and wondered if anyone out there might be willing to help her fix that.

It didn’t take long for the challenge of who could drink more to be issued. Koth bowed out immediately, claiming that he still got queasy thinking about their last contest. Pierce scoffed. “She can’t hold that much, look at her.” The large man motioned to Fynta’s body with a curled lip. “Can’t weigh more than seven stone.”

Fynta nearly spit out her drink. Wiping the back of her hand across her mouth, she smirked. “You need to seriously readjust your view of female body weight.” When the big man crossed his arms, she looked to Felix. “You in?”

Felix shook his head, lifting the mug in hand. “Just the one for me. Promised the lady I’d be good.”

Meeting Pierce’s taunting gaze, Fynta knocked on the bar and raised two fingers. “If I win?”

The man’s lips jerked at the corners. “I’ll call you sir.”

A round of impressed noises sounded from the other two men. Fynta ignored them. “And, if I lose?”

A cruel smirk replaced his nonchalance. “You’ve got to submit a ticket to Iresso’s girl.”

Koth let out a low whistle while Felix sputtered. “Nuh-uh, leave Nyo’a out of this. She won’t like being made into a bargaining chip.”

Pierce’s smile widened. “Exactly.” Felix’s girlfriend had the reputation of being a hardass when it came to the maintenance of their base. She didn’t like fixing things, not because she hated her job, but believed that if people respected property, it wouldn’t have broken in the first place. Her tirades against sentient stupidity were legendary.

“Deal.” Felix groaned and ordered another beer when the barkeep deposited hard liquor for Fynta and Pierce. She wasn’t worried. There had yet to be a being of any race who could out drink her. Fynta wouldn’t be seeing Felix’s girlfriend any time soon.

The minutes ticked by, and with each one, another shot. Fynta’s entire body felt warm, and the world had taken on a hazy, comfortable feel. There was no doubt that she was drunk, but Fynta no longer cared. The only thing that annoyed her was that Pierce refused to admit when he was outmatched. The man’s face was bright red, eyes and nose running, yet he downed a shot everytime the barkeep replaced them. 

Eventually, Felix stepped in. “How about we call it a tie. Congratulations, you’re both winners!” 

Koth clapped, a slow, sarcastic sound. Fynta had no idea that hands could convey so much snark. “They’ve bypassed what I could put away by four glasses. That’s not normal, right?”

Pierce’s open palm slapped against the counter, upending a couple of empty shot glasses. “No,” his words slurred, which Fynta found hilarious with that accent. “No stopping without a winner.”

Grabbing Fynta’s hand before she could down the next shot, Felix eased it back to the bar. “How about another bet. Something a little less destructive.”

Fynta squinted at her new friend, then around the room. Her eyes settled on the dark haired woman from earlier, still more focused on her datapad than her surroundings, and an idea sprang to the front of her mind. It was how Fynta knew she wasn’t completely wasted yet. She was fully aware of how terrible her plan was. 

Nodding towards the woman, Fynta thumped Pierce’s stomach a little too hard. “Bet I can get her attention where you failed.” She suspected that the woman had some sort of device watching her surroundings, since she hadn’t looked up from that datapad a single time since their arrival.

Pierce swiveled on his stool, a slow, methodical action that involved more than one curse, then nodded. “First one to get her attention, wins.”

“That’s not what I had in mind,” Felix began, but his attempt at reason was drowned out by Pierce’s curses. Fynta couldn’t exactly make out the words, not with his alcohol enhanced accent, but she didn’t miss the sound of glass shattering. 

The barkeep stomped over and shoved Pierce from over the counter. He teetered dangerously before catching himself. All eyes turned to the woman, then Fynta laughed when it failed to get a reaction out of her. Pierce snorted and jabbed a finger into her shoulder. “Think you can do better. Be my guest.”

Fynta knew the look in those dark eyes. She estimated one shot at getting this right before he escalated things. Fynta firmly believed that if a situation was going to turn ugly, it should be on her terms. Spinning to face the rest of the room, Fynta blinked back her nausea and struck out for the first shape to cross her path. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Fynta hoped it wasn’t one of hers. 

Fingers cracked as her fist collided with the sharp cheekbones of a Davaronian male. The man snarled a curse, then lunged for Pierce. Fynta found that hilarious too. In the blink of an eye, a Twi’lek and human male joined the struggling duo on the floor, and Fynta couldn’t resist herself. With a shout that she hoped sounded fierce, Fynta leapt onto the Twi’lek’s back. 

* * *

Noara peered over her datapad just in time to see the drunken blonde woman deck a Davaronian she apparently didn’t know. She had known that group would be trouble even before the large man with the Imperial accent had approached her. She had been so baffled by his attention she’d directed him to the freshers in the back of the bar before really registering what he had said. 

It was probably for the best that her confusion had been read as a rejection. It wasn’t safe for her to trust anyone too much these days and old prejudices being what they were, she couldn’t be sure someone hailing from the Empire wouldn’t sell her out. 

And now she was going to have to throw him, and all his friends, out of the bar. As she set her book aside. she felt a jolt of fear at the thought, knowing she was going to have to use the Force to accomplish it – all five brawlers easily outweighed her by a significant amount. Pushing back on that fear, Noara decided she had to get this taken care of as quickly as possible. The man’s obvious accent had put her more on edge than she realized. 

Standing on the bar top she had been sitting on, Noara nimbly ran down the length of it. Cries of surprise and indignation followed her as she stepped lightly past customer’s drinks without disturbing a single one. When she reached the corner of the bar she leapt off. With a touch of the Force to increase the impact, she hit the larger human male in the small of the back as he tried to get back up to his feet. He fell forward with a curse. 

Pushing off his back, Noara flipped to her feet just in time to dodge a wild swing from the Twi’lek that had been roped into the scuffle. Latching on to his wrist, she used his own momentum to pull him off his feet and send him sprawling on the floor next to the large man. The blonde woman laughed loudly and Noara turned toward her just in time to catch a fist aimed at her lower back in the stomach. 

Gasping for air, Noara staggered back a step before lunging forward at the other human man’s legs. In a show of strength, she would never be able to pull off without the Force’s aid, she flipped him over her back and onto the hard floor with a loud thump. When she looked back at the other brawlers, she saw that the big guy had the Davaronian in a headlock and the Twi’lek had turned his attention to the woman. Seeing an opportunity to start ejecting them she grabbed the smaller human by the back of his leather jacket and hauled him to the door and shoved him out into the street. 

Returning to the fight, the Davaronian managed to get free of the large man’s grasp and shoved him toward Noara. Reaching out with the Force she propelled him forward, past her and out the door. By the loud cursing she knew that he had fallen again but couldn’t be too hurt if he was spewing profanities with such elegance. 

When she rounded on the Davaronian he was staring at her with wide eyes and held up his hands in surrender. “I’ll go,” he said quickly, darting past her when she nodded for him to go. That was a usual reaction when someone saw her using her abilities to do something they could visibly see. Throwing a man three times her size out the door with a wave of her hand tended to raise a few eyebrows. 

An excited whoop drew her attention back to the last two troublemakers she had to eject. The blonde woman was standing victorious over the Twi’lek who was sprawled on the ground looking dazed and confused. Whatever fight had been in him, it was gone. 

Stepping up in front of the remaining brawler, the woman, Noara couldn’t help but smile in amusement. The woman’s slightly drunken grin was infectious. Before Noara could tell her it was time to go, the woman lunged for her obviously still riding the exhilaration of the brawl. The way she moved, avoiding a punch Noara threw at her and blocking a second showed she was an experienced fighter but the copious amount of alcohol she had put away since entering the bar made her movements slower and less controlled. 

A punch went wide and Noara ducked under the woman’s arm, grabbing her wrist and twisting her arm and locking it behind her back. The woman bit out a curse as Noara propelled her through the bar and out the door. 

When they reached the door Noara released her arm and gave her a little shove forward. Despite her obviously drunken state the woman didn’t lose her balance. She spun around and when her gaze landed on Noara she shot the woman a cheeky salute. 

“Thanks for the business folks, c’mon back when you learn to behave.” Noara turned on her heel and marched back into the bar to get the Twi’lek to the sound of laughter. 

* * *

Fynta barely missed a beat before laughing loudly as the Twi’lek she had bested stumbled out of the bar. The last thing she had expected the woman who had blown Peirce off in favor of her book to do when she got her attention, because she was determined to win the bet, was kick them out. The bartender and waitstaff hadn’t even blinked at the ruckus, no one tried to interfere and now she knew exactly why. 

The dark haired woman was the bouncer. More than that, if what she saw when Pierce was thrown out the door wasn’t the alcohol playing with her vision, the woman had the Force. Jedi, Sith or something else she had no idea, but the woman had easily thrown five much larger people out of the bar and even with them drunk it was impressive. When she had saluted Fynta and left with a parting bit of snark her long ponytail hadn’t even been mussed up. 

Turning from the cantina, Fynta grinned at Pierce who was just pushing up to his feet and poked a finger at him. “I won the bet.” 

Pierce shot her a nasty look but before he could respond she was already making her way back into the cantina, passing Koth and Felix who had obviously been coming out to meet them. A quick glance at the corner showed that Aakavi had also left, but she wasn’t concerned at the moment where the grumpy Zabrad was. 

Instead she was looking for the spunky bouncer who was already back in place, perched on the edge of the bar and swinging her feet back and forth as she sipped on a brightly colored drink. Fynta knew the moment the woman noticed she had returned because she stilled her legs and set the glass down next to where she was sitting. She had expected being told to leave but instead pale blue eyes eyed tracked her movements as she approached. 

When Fynta stepped up to the bar the woman hopped off the ledge and, perching her hands on slim hips, smirked up at her. Until then Fynta hadn’t really noticed how petite the bouncer was. Standing shorter by a couple inches and much closer to the seven stone Pierce had estimated for herself, the fact she had managed to eject them all from the bar was all the more impressive. 

“Being thrown out once wasn’t enough?” 

The cocky boast sounded almost comical from the small woman, even knowing she could back it up and it made Fynta want to grin. 

“Got a bad habit of looking for trouble,” Fynta said before holding out her hand. “Got a name? I’m Fynta.”

The woman eyed her hand suspiciously for a moment, the way one eyes an animal when they aren’t sure if it will bite them or not, before grasping it in a firm grip. “Noara. What do ya want Fynta?”

This time Fynta didn’t hold back from grinning, still holding the woman’s hand as she met her gaze. “How would you like to help save the galaxy?”


End file.
